


I'll be your friend (I'll help you carry on)

by sarcastic_fina



Series: If I Were A Better Man [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Grief, Mentorship, Moving On, au - felicity knew oliver before the island, if i were a better man series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-14
Updated: 2013-08-11
Packaged: 2017-12-20 04:02:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/882720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcastic_fina/pseuds/sarcastic_fina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A life-long friendship grows from the seeds of loss as Felicity and Tommy lean on each other to get through Oliver's disappearance at sea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Lovely fic poster made by** : [dhfreak](http://dhfreak.tumblr.com/post/71718330698/ill-be-your-friend-by-sarcasticfina-a), so leave some love on her Tumblr.

[ ** ** ](http://dhfreak.tumblr.com/post/71718330698/ill-be-your-friend-by-sarcasticfina-a)

**I.**

Felicity had moved on from cleaning her apartment to taking apart her appliances. So far, she was pretty sure her toaster had never run smoother, her coffee hotter, and, while it wasn't her intention, she now got free porn channels on her television. She was rewiring her DVD player when she heard a knock at her door. Pausing, she lifted her head, and readjusted her glasses from where they'd slid down her nose. She waited for some kind of sign that whoever was on the other side might identify themselves. Although, she had a pretty good idea of who it was.

"Felicity, I know you're in there…"

She rolled her eyes.

"If you don't let me in, I'll… hire somebody to break this door down."

Helpless to it, she snorted.

"Hah! I heard that!"

"Then hear this:  _Go away!_ "

He sighed and a thud followed, one she was fairly sure was his forehead hitting the door. "I know you saw the news…"

Felicity frowned, biting down on her lip.

"It doesn't mean anything. I… It's not… He…"

Blinking against the sting in her eyes, she shook her head. "That was very well put, Tommy. Everything is so much clearer."

He groaned and she could hear him sliding down her door to sit on the floor.

After a minute, she sighed, putting the DVD player to the side. She pushed herself up to stand and silently crossed her apartment to sit on the other side of her door, imagining he was sitting in the same position, his knees up and his head ducked.

Four days ago, Oliver Queen, his father, and the crew of the Queen's Gambit had gone missing at sea. A storm had struck, contact was severed, and while Search and Rescue had tried very hard to find them, there was no wreckage or lifeboats to be found. In that time, there had been non-stop attention on the disappearance. Nobody from the Queen family had talked to the media, tucked away in their mansion, waiting for word, letting representatives plead with everybody to give them space. Tommy, on the other hand, had showed up at Felicity's house every afternoon for the last four days. Often, he wouldn't say much; he just needed the company. And honestly, so did she.

Today, however, he was early. And she knew why.

Sara Lance, daughter of a high-ranking police officer in the SCPD had been on the yacht with Oliver. She'd texted a few friends when she met him at the bar and early in the morning when she'd set sail with him to China. The news outlets had picked up the story just this morning, adding her to the list of victims. She watched as reporters swarmed the precinct to get any kind of reaction from Sara's father, getting little more than anger at their gall. At the same time, they circled like vultures outside of Sara's older sister Laurel's apartment for a sound bite, heartless over how distraught she was.

All the while, Felicity sat numbly on her couch.

He'd said goodbye to her. He'd asked her to wait for him. He asked for a kiss and promised to bring back souvenirs. And he had another woman on the yacht.

It shouldn't have hurt. It shouldn't have even surprised her. But it did. Because just for a minute, just for a hopeful stretch of time, she'd thought he had changed and they could work. She'd looked up at him, smiling down at her, and she was sure it wasn't just that cheesy, handsome grin of his. She thought he was genuine. She thought her gut was telling her that Oliver really cared. But she was wrong. She was just one more on a long list of women duped by that stupid smile of his.

Hurt and anger welled inside her, fighting for top place.

But they fled her as quickly as they flared to life.

Oliver was missing. It felt wrong to be mad at him when he was either drifting at sea or drowning beneath it. What did her feelings matter? What did any of it matter? Hadn't she just thought, days ago, that even if nothing happened between them, she just wanted him and the others to be safe? She buried her face in her hands and took a deep breath. That was it then. Despite the flirting and the promises and whatever else, he was out there, possibly in danger, and that was all she needed to think about. He was her friend. Before anything else, he had been her friend. And that was all he was ever meant to be.

"It could be good," she murmured.

Tommy scoffed disagreeably. " _How?_ "

"Her dad is a police officer… He might be able to rally more help," she said, trying to be encouraging.

"Felicity," he sighed. "The Queens are billionaires. His family has every possible resource deployed as we speak…"

She frowned, recognizing the truth behind his words. While she hadn't seen Moira Queen on camera, she knew that she was doing everything in her power to find her husband and son. She wouldn't rest until they had something. Felicity only hoped that 'something' was good news. Not for her sake, but for Tommy's, for Oliver's mother and sister. She wasn't sure what she would do if she saw him again. Certainly not what she first expected to. Dreams of a smiling Oliver holding out a keychain and a post card as he waited for his kiss and his date had drifted far, far away. Well out of reach.

"It's my fault," Tommy's voice reached through the door to her.

She shook her head. For a man who was nowhere near the yacht, Tommy Merlyn held a lot of guilt for his best friend's sudden disappearance. She opened her mouth to again tell him that Oliver would understand that he hadn't gone to see him off, but she didn't get a chance.

"I took him clubbing Tuesday night… I shouldn't have. He… He was doing so well. He was  _excited_ , you know? You agreed to a date, he was taking an interest in QC, his dad was proud of him. He… He was changing his life around…" His voice cracked near the end. "And I got scared. I… I thought he might leave me behind, so I told him we should have a drink, you know? We should celebrate. Finally—  _Finally_ , he was getting the girl…"

Felicity bit her lip as it trembled and blinked her stinging eyes.

"One drink turned into two and four and… And this woman came over; they usually do… It's not hard to get attention when your face is on every other magazine. She was pretty; brunette, I think… I didn't catch her name."

 _Sara_ , she thought but didn't say. She had one of those names that sounded elegant and sweet. Much better than Felicity. The picture they'd put on the news was of a beautiful brunette; her hair long and perfectly curled. She had a bright smile; it made her whole face light up. It made Felicity feel frumpy. It wasn't Sara's fault that she caught Oliver's attention. Truth be told, she looked like she fit with him a whole lot more than Felicity did. But oddly, she'd never been insecure about her looks, about how she and Oliver would look together. It hadn't occurred to her that those were defining differences too. She'd seen his lifestyle, seen how the partying and lack of direction didn't quite fit with her, and she'd made a judgement call that it would only end in heartbreak. But she hadn't gone so far as to think about what it would be like to step into his world, to be seen on his arm. She imagined people watching the news weren't surprised that this beautiful Sara had been with Oliver. But if they'd put up a picture of her, she imagined they would have thought she was only onboard to work tech support.

Shaking her head, she remembered that it really didn't matter. Sara was onboard a ship that went down. She probably didn't care one iota about whether or not the news had put up a flattering picture. And really, who cared if she was beautiful? Felicity imagined she was smart, in college maybe. Her sister was in law school, wasn't that what the news reported? And her father was a cop. She wondered if Sara had the same justice-minded future ahead of her.

She was suddenly wondering a lot about a woman she didn't know and she hated that she was still comparing herself to her. She vowed to stop that and tuned back into Tommy. It seemed he too had wandered in his memory because he wasn't too far into his retelling of the night before Oliver left.

"Oliver was drunk, he was… He was his old self and…  _Responsibility_? I mean…" He laughed hollowly. "What did we ever need with that?"

She didn't answer, instead picking at a loose thread on the knee of her ratty old jeans, the ones she wore for comfort, that reminded her of long days back home on the farm. Of riding horses through the fields and telling her dad not to work so hard. Of fresh air and hay and the sun beating down on her face.

"It was stupid. It was so stupid. Because I could see him making that mistake. I should've stopped him. I sat there and I thought, ' _She'll never forgive him_.' And I-I let him do it because… because I wanted to keep my drinking buddy, my wingman… So he walked away with her and I was  _relieved_. I was relieved because he was still the same old Oliver. He still screwed up, just like I did. He didn't take anything seriously, just like me… He left and I felt like life was back to normal. And then he woke up and he was even more stupid than usual and he took her with him…

"And I know him, I know what he was thinking… 'Just one last time. Just one more mistake, right?' He'd come back, he'd make it up to you, he'd convince you to give him that chance anyway… Only he's not coming back… He's not coming back, Felicity, and I know you want to hate him. I know you want to blame him, but don't.  _Please…_ " He let out a ragged breath. "I should've stopped him. I should've done something. He… He really liked you, I swear he did."

Felicity stood from the floor and swiped quickly at her face, rubbing under her eyes and breathing in slowly, trying to find her calm. She unlocked and swung her door open, fast enough that Tommy hadn't expected it and fell back against her floor, sprawled out, and stared up at her with guilt.

She held a hand out for him to take and, while he hesitated, he let her help him up. His clothes were a little rumpled and she thought he might have hit the liquor cabinet a bit early, but he was fine otherwise. She walked into her kitchen and started a pot of coffee, not looking at him, preferring the distraction.

He took a seat at the table, as he often did, and they let the quiet sink in.

It was a few minutes later that she finally brought his steaming cup of coffee over, the mug hot enough to sting her skin. She dropped it down in front of him and warned, "Careful. It's extremely hot."

He glanced at her and then down into the depths of his black coffee. He didn't take a sip, didn't add cream or sugar. He just wrapped his hands around it and let the heat sink into his palms. His eyes were bloodshot, ringed red, and he had bags beneath them that said he wasn't sleeping well lately. He hadn't shaved since the news that Oliver was missing broke, the scruff made that obvious. He was so different from the man she'd been introduced to in the past. He had his moments where his humor would break through and momentarily lift the gloom, but they were rare. The Tommy she knew now was broken, worried, and lost.

"It's not your fault," she told him.

He glanced at her, shaking his head miserably. "It is."

"Oliver's a grown man, Tommy. He had a choice and he made it." She shrugged. "He wasn't ready and… I knew he wasn't. I knew he and I wouldn't work out… We're too different. We want different things, we always have."

"But he was  _trying_. He was trying to want those things," he argued, staring at her searchingly. And for a moment, Felicity wondered if he was worried that if she didn't care what happened to Oliver, then he would lose her, he would lose that safe place to go, that person who knew how much it hurt. Or maybe he was still playing wingman, still trying to help his best friend get the girl, despite everything.

She half-smiled at Tommy understandingly. "Do you know what I told Oliver right before he decided he was going to change?"

He shook his head.

"I said that he was good enough, he just wasn't good with me…" She licked her lips as she sighed. "And I was right… Oliver is… He's a great friend; he's sweet and funny and extremely loyal. But those things, they don't follow into a relationship, not with him. He's still in that mindset of just wanting to have fun and that's  _fine_. Good for him. But I… I'm not there. I don't want to  _be_ there. And instead of recognizing that, he took it as a challenge, and he thought he needed to change. But that wasn't the point. I—I missed my  _own_ point…" She rolled her eyes at herself. "Oliver is my friend, Tommy. He was a good friend. I should've let it stay there. I should've  _made_ it stay there."

He stared at her a long moment and then nodded. "Okay."

"So no more guilt, okay? Because let's face it, nothing and no one can stop Oliver Queen when he wants to do something…" She forced a smile on her lips.

He laughed under his breath. "That's true… I don't think he's ever given up in his life… Not even that one time he tried to convince a police officer that he wasn't speeding, he was undercover with the local drag racers…" Seeing her raised eyebrow, he added, "We watched Fast and Furious that weekend and he was a little drunk."

"And how did that go over with the SCPD?" she wondered, although she just could just imagine how unamused the police were.

"We were detained and he spent nearly the entire night reciting the movie in an effort to make his story sound more realistic…"

She laughed, smothering a smile. "Wow."

He shrugged. "We were bailed out in the morning. Makes a good story at cocktail parties… I guess in a few years, so will the 'lost at sea' edition…"

Her expression softened. "Don't give up yet, all right?" She reached for him, her hand on his wrist. "You said it yourself, he's never given up."

He smiled faintly and nodded, ducking his eyes down to the table. "What if he does though?" he wondered, brow furrowed.

She tipped her head questioningly.

"What if he does give up…?" He looked at her then. "Where's that leave me?"

She squeezed his wrist gently. "I can't replace Oliver, and I would never try to, but… If you ever need a friend, you know where I live."

He nodded slowly, blinking a few times against the tears he rarely let fall, and then his hand left his coffee mug and covered hers. "You too, Smoak… You too."

Felicity half-smiled up at him and though she would have much rather their friendship be born under different circumstances, she knew as she sat with him that whatever happened, Tommy Merlyn was going to play a large role in her life. She thought it might be the only good thing to come out of a truly awful loss. It couldn't make up for it, by any means, but it was their only comfort for now.

The following morning, the rescue mission was officially changed to a body recovery. She found Tommy crying outside her door at six in the morning. She had a key made for him that afternoon and hoped that wherever Oliver was, he knew she would take good care of his best friend.

* * *

"Come on, just one drink."

"I'm really not a drinker," she told him, shaking her head. "Now, red wine, beer, even a tequila shot or two? Yes, that I'll do…" She scrunched her nose at the bottle of whiskey he'd placed on her table. "But I'm not a whiskey girl."

"It's the drink of the broken-hearted," he declared, tipping the bottle over to pour them each a glass.

"It's what old men drink as they reflect on their life with maudlin regret," she argued, but took the proffered glass.

"I'll remember that later, when I'm in my twilight years, wearing a silk robe and puffing on a Cuban cigar." Taking his own drink up, he raised it for her, expecting a clink.

Rolling her eyes, she reached across. "Cheers."

Tommy returned the sentiment before downing his whole glass, knocking it back on the table and giving his head a shake before he poured another. Felicity, on the other hand, slowly sipped at hers, her nose wrinkled.

"You're a terrible drinking buddy," he sighed.

"I wasn't trying to be a good one." She dropped her glass back to the table and folded her hands together. "Tommy…"

"Hmm?" He stared at the bottle, picking at the label.

"It's been a week."

He didn't answer right away, not that she was really expecting him to. She found she had to prod Tommy a lot of the time. Not nag him, exactly. She just had to make important declarations and then wait for him to process and respond. Not like Oliver who often reacted without thinking anything through, impatient and eager to say whatever crossed his mind. She wasn't sure if this was a new facet of Tommy, though. Maybe in the past, he just hadn't had a lot of hardship to think about and now that he did, it took him some time to decide how he felt about it.

"I stole this off my dad," he finally said, turning the bottle toward her. "He's been busy lately… Too busy to ask how I'm dealing with the disappearance of my life-long best friend…" He laughed humorlessly. "So I raided his alcohol cabinet as revenge…" He shook his head and took a long drag from his glass. "I was standing in front of it and suddenly I remembered doing the same thing when I was sixteen. Only Oliver was with me then…

"We kept laughing, we thought for sure we were going to get caught… But dad was in his office, he was on some conference call or something." He shrugged. "All I know was that whatever I was doing, it didn't matter in comparison… So Oliver and I took as much as we could hold between us and piled it in the trunk of one his dad's cars. It wasn't about the alcohol though, wasn't even about getting drunk, it was just… It felt good. Making him pay somehow. Making him realize that… I'm still there…"

Felicity had never met Malcolm Merlyn. She'd seen him in press releases, commercials, newspapers, but she was a Queen Consolidated employee, so she'd never had reason to meet him. The only reason she knew Tommy was because of Oliver's interest in her. It was hard to imagine that fun-loving Tommy being raised by the man he was telling her about. She imagined Malcolm was cold, careless, that he dismissed his son more than anything. And maybe that made sense; maybe that was why Tommy looked for love and acceptance elsewhere. Why he tried so hard to be the life of the party. She wasn't sure.

Taking up her glass, she knocked the whole thing back, all the while knowing she would regret it in the morning. But Tommy wanted to drown out some of the hurt and she didn't need to make him feel bad about it. Besides, there was probably some hurt in her she wanted dulled too. And one night couldn't hurt. It wasn't like it would become a routine, at least not for her. She was being honest when she said she wasn't much of a drinker. A glass of wine fit her just fine.

Tommy watched her before a slow smile appeared, and then he reached over and topped up her glass.

"This won't always work, you know," she warned.

He tapped her glass with his. "I know."

* * *

Tommy was slumped in the chair across from her desk, sunglasses on and suit disheveled. She wasn't entirely sure he hadn't fallen asleep. He'd showed up just after lunch, bringing bagels and coffee with him. He hadn't said much, just asked her how her day was going and what she'd been dealing with. She rambled on for a while about a few tech problems she'd had to deal with. He didn't comment. Sometimes she found he just liked hearing her talk, he just needed the quiet filled, and he knew she wouldn't judge him for it.

This was a common occurrence now. For the last two weeks it seemed that Tommy had picked up where Oliver left off, at least in some respects. He seemed to think it was his job to be her lunch buddy now. And, to be honest, she appreciated the effort. Especially since she'd gotten into the habit of not making a lunch, expecting Oliver to show up with food in tow.

At the same time, it felt different. Not just because Tommy was quiet and often sullen, but because Oliver's presence had felt different. There was always something in the air when he was with her, something electric even if she tried to ignore it. He liked getting into her space, asking questions about her life and her family, wanting to know her. He brought his world into hers, telling her about Thea and his parents, about Raisa, his favorite staff member, and Tommy, his partner in crime.

It was different but not unwelcome. So she let Tommy sit in Oliver's seat, even if he didn't fill it the same, and she accepted the lunches he brought, even if he never got her sandwich order right, and she talked about work and her mother calling the night before. It wasn't perfect. He would never be Oliver for her and she would never be Oliver for him. But it was comforting and easier than she expected.

It was almost time to leave when he stirred and she realized he really had fallen asleep. Her lips quirked with a faint smile. Tommy didn't have a job, so it wasn't as if he was blowing anything more important off. Maybe under different circumstances that would annoy her. Billionaires and their habit of not taking anything seriously, not contributing. But she didn't have it in her to criticize, to suggest he find something else to do. She liked having him around and she didn't think it was the time to start pointing out that it couldn't go on forever. He couldn't be a permanent fixture in her office. Even Oliver left after her lunch break ended.

For now, she would let it happen, though.

She gathered up her jacket and shut down her computers before she tossed out their empty or, in his case, nearly full but ice cold coffee cups and then she tipped her head to tell him it was time to go.

He nodded, silently standing, stretching his back out before he followed her through the door and out of the office. He was familiar enough that nobody commented, nobody even seemed to think it was odd. And she thought maybe Oliver's presence in her office was noticed more than she expected. It would certainly explain why she kept getting those odd looks; looks she realized now were full of pity.

She and Tommy rode the elevator down to the main floor. He leaned back against the wall, rubbing his fingers under his sunglasses and into his eyes. "Dinner?" he asked her.

"You want to go out or call for take-out?"

He raised an eyebrow.

Take-out it was.

And, considering how he looked, it was probably for the best. Tommy had become rather reclusive lately, if it could be called that when he spent 90% of his time at her house.

"When we get back to my apartment, you're taking a shower," she told him, and then frowned at his chin. "And maybe you should consider shaving, mountain man."

His lips twitched. "Are you suggesting I  _smell_ , Miss Smoak?"

She looked up at him and snorted. "Friends tell friends when they stink."

"True enough," he decided.

She hoped that meant he might pick up his old routine of showering daily, but she doubted it. He had his moments of clarity, where he went about life like he used to, but they were rare of late. He was still too damaged, too worried, and she wondered if there was really a timeline to follow here. If there was a certain amount of time that would pass before normal life just became routine again rather than a foreign concept.

For now, if he needed somebody to remind him to shave and shower and get out of the house, she would be it.

Well, maybe leaving the house would take a little longer. Until the shaving and showering became routine, at least. That was as much for his benefit as it was for anyone who had to be in close contact with him.

* * *

"I'm not going out to the club with you."

Tommy groaned from where he sat on the couch. "Felicity, don't make me break out the blackmail material…"

Raising an eyebrow, she looked over at him, an X-Box remote in his hand, the sound muted from the television as he paused it. "What  _possible_ blackmail material could you have on me?" she asked dismissively.

His eyes cut away. "I don't currently have any…" he admitted. "But I could hire a professional to find some… Or even make some up if the price is right."

She rolled her eyes. "Tommy…" Crossing the room, she sat down on the opposite end of the couch. "Why do you want to go clubbing?" She shook her head. "I can barely get you to shave most days… I hesitate to ask when the last time you showered was… And I think you've already put a pretty big dent in the alcohol trade these last three weeks."

He licked his lips, turning his eyes away, and fiddled with the controller. "I talked to Oliver's mom yesterday…"

Felicity stayed silent. Tommy called the Queens daily, trying to find out if they'd learned anything. It usually only made him sullen. There was never anything to lift his spirits and each passing day that Oliver was gone made the outcome more and more grim.

"They've been discussing when the right time to officially declare them dead is."

Her gaze fell for a long moment, staring at the pattern on the couch. She knew it was coming. According to Search and Rescue, to experts, to the news, to anybody who had an opinion on the matter, there was very little chance that anybody on the yacht had lived. The body search had come up with nothing, but so did everything else. They couldn't find them and the consensus was that they were so deep beneath the ocean that there was no chance of reaching them.

"Tommy…"

"I know it's stupid…" He turned to look at her, his eyes swimming. "I know it doesn't make sense to believe that he's still alive, that he'll come home… I know that I'm kidding myself…" He ground his teeth. "But just for tonight I want to pretend that he's coming home… He's just sunbathing on a yacht somewhere, carefree, completely clueless to everybody's worrying…" He stared at her searchingly. "I want to go back, Felicity, to before all of this happened…  _Okay?_ "

Licking her lips, she nodded. "Okay."

"So you'll come with me?" His brows hiked, his expression pleading with her to indulge him.

"I'm not sure I have anything 'club-worthy' to wear, but yes, I'll come with you tonight."

And then he was forcing a grin on her, one that nowhere near reached his eyes. "You can be my wingwoman, Smoak. Talk me up to everybody."

She snorted and reached for the other game controller. "Trust me, Tommy, I think your reputation will precede you." She unpaused the game and got comfortable on the couch, crossing her legs beneath her. "You know you're going to have to shower, right?"

He glanced at her. "Do you still have that mango body wash?"

Rolling her eyes, she looked over at him. "You told me it made you feel less manly last time, remember?"

"Yeah, but I felt so  _refreshed_ afterwards…"

"Probably because it was the first shower you took in a week… And by the way, we're never letting it get that far again. I will shove you in the shower, fully clothed; I'm not kidding."

He grinned. "You wash my back, I'll wash yours."

"You wish," she scoffed.

He laughed under his breath and sat back on her couch, lightly smiling to himself.

It wouldn't last long, she knew. Tommy's good mood came and went, a constant roller coaster. She was fairly sure he didn't think he deserved to be happy, not with what was happening. But if he needed this night, if he needed to forget for just a moment, then she would go with it. Clubbing wasn't really her scene and she was sure she'd stick out like a sore thumb, but Tommy was her friend and he was hurting. She'd do anything to make that stop.

Well, almost anything. There was no way in hell she was loofah-ing up his back in that shower. That was one line they were never going to cross.

* * *

"Why did I agree to this?" she wondered into her beer bottle before she took a long drag.

Just as Felicity expected, she felt weird at the club. It would've been different if she was there with Penny. She and her best friend had gone clubbing in the past, usually spending the night just dancing with each other, waving off offers from anybody who wanted to join them. It wasn't about finding someone to take home so much as blowing off steam. But Felicity was well aware that blowing off steam  _meant_ taking someone home in Tommy's case. And she wouldn't judge, really. As long as everyone involved were consenting adults, who hopefully used protection, she didn't see any harm in it. But being out at a club at Tommy Merlyn's side was not easily ignored. For one thing, she was pretty sure the female population, at least the part of it interested in sleeping with him, thought she was an obstacle, which she was not. But that didn't stop her from getting catty looks or having to put up with the dreaded 'what does he see in  _her_? _'_ stare she'd become all too familiar with.

They had been at the club a little over an hour. Tommy had a table reserved for them and she'd spent the majority of her time sitting at it, nursing her drink, playing on her phone, trying to look busy. Tommy was dancing. If it could be called that. It was more like standing in the middle of a mass of beautiful women as they all moved and he was just sort of forced to go with whatever they did. He didn't seem to mind. He was smiling more than she'd seen in weeks, and laughing too. It was nice. Enough to make her feel like it was worth it to drag out a form-fitting dress she'd much rather have left in her closet and put on a pair of shoes she always forgot pinched her toes.

The whole point of tonight was to make sure he forgot his problems for a while. Why she had to be there, she wasn't sure. She much preferred being that solid place he landed when he was done drinking himself into oblivion. Or, well, that was really more of her  _floor_  and she was the person dragging him to her couch and leaving a bottle of water and some Tylenol within reach. She was the support, not the partner.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing sitting all by yourself?" a voice called out.

Felicity's head reared up quickly and she stared, wide-eyed at the man standing in front of her table. He was tall, enough that she had to crane her neck to see him, with dark hair and shark-like smirk. His teeth were almost too white; it was a little distracting. Like Tommy, he was dressed nicely in a buttoned dress shirt and dark jeans. Unlike Tommy, he hadn't skimped on the cologne and it was far too strong.

Felicity was well aware of his intentions, but she wasn't interested. One night stands weren't her style. She didn't begrudge anybody them, but she didn't want to go home with a stranger and regret it in the morning. The only thing on her schedule for tonight was making sure Tommy enjoyed himself and going home to curl up on her couch and watch TV.

"Uh… Would you believe checking in with the babysitter about my six children, all under the age of five?" she tried. She didn't want to flirt, she didn't want him to buy her a drink, and she definitely didn't want to make small talk.

He laughed. "Six, really?" He looked her over, well as much as he could since she was sitting, so really he just stared at her breasts. Which were all too emphasized in her scoop-necked dress, she realized, fidgeting under his stare.

"You don't look like you've had six kids…"

"Good genes," she replied, shrugging a shoulder. "Really fertile ones, so…"

He mouth quirked up one side. "I like kids," he persisted.

Felicity raised a skeptical eyebrow. Sure, her children weren't real, but if they were, she didn't think she'd be picking up their step-dad at a club. "I'm sure you like the process of  _making_ kids, but trust me, mine are brats. Very loud, always demanding attention. Seriously, they're a nightmare. At least three of them try to climb into bed with me every night."

Not the least bit deterred, he slid into booth. "Maybe you should get a lock…" he suggested, reaching over and sliding his fingers up her forearm.

She looked down at the unwanted touch and then scooted away from him. "Maybe I should get home instead. Babysitter's are expensive. Have a good night…" She stepped out from the booth and pulled at the end of her dress, disliking how much leg was on display before she started walking away from the table.

"Hey…" A hand touched her wrist. "Why don't we get a drink first? One for the road."

She looked back, sighing irritably. "No, thanks, really not interested."

He frowned. "I don't know why you're being such a bitch about this. You're just Tommy Merlyn's cast offs anyway."

Putting a hand to her hip, she turned to face him fully. "One, I wasn't being a bitch. I was trying to be polite, but you just wouldn't take a hint. Two, Tommy is a friend of mine, so don't make assumptions about something you know nothing about. And three, if you think a girl turning you down makes her a bitch, then maybe you should ask yourself what makes you such a special snowflake. You've never met anyone and just  _not_ wanted to sleep with them?"

He stared at her, his mouth ajar, but then anger flashed in his eyes and she knew that he wasn't going to simply  _think_  about what she said, he was going to lash out and be even more of a jerk. Rolling her eyes, she turned on her heel to walk away. But then he was grabbing her arm again and yanking her back. If it wasn't for the heels that she wasn't used to wearing and the tight confines of her dress, she might have been able to keep from stumbling, but that didn't happen. She lost her footing and was forced into facing him again.

"If you don't get your hand off my friend, I'm going to have the bouncer break it," a voice interrupted.

Felicity's head turned to find Tommy standing just a few feet away.

Her attempted  _suitor_  looked over at him, sneering.

But Tommy was surprisingly menacing for a man she didn't think had a mean bone in his body. He stepped forward and the shadows around his eyes, more from lack of sleep than anything, made his features look dark, his face drawn. "Get… your hands…  _off_  of her…" he ordered, staring the man in the eye.

Slowly, his fingers released her arm and she stepped back from him, rubbing the skin where she could already feel it bruising.

"You can have her… She's a bitch anyway."

Suddenly, Tommy was smiling. He ducked his head, laughing under his breath, and pushed the sleeves of his shirt up a little further. "Thank you," he said.

The man shook his head, confused. "For what?"

"I really needed this."

And with that, Tommy reared his arm back and took a swing. It connected, his fist slamming into the guy's jaw hard enough that he fell sideways, crashing into a table. A pitcher of beer was knocked over, drenching two of the four people in the booth, each of whom yelled. Suddenly, all of the attention was on them. The music stopped and people started to crowd around. Whether it was from the attention or purely because Tommy hit him first, the guy pushed up, his mouth bleeding, and attacked back.

Felicity stood, wide-eyed, her hands over her mouth as the fight fell to the floor, with the guy getting in a few good hits to Tommy's face before Tommy managed to turn them over and then his fury was absolute. Maybe it was a build-up of his anger of what had happened with Oliver, with his life, but there was nothing and no one that could keep Tommy from taking it all out on the guy beneath him.

She'd never seen violence first hand before. She'd seen blood, of course. She lived on a farm. But she never saw two men brutally beat the crap out of each other. Even now, it was really only Tommy beating somebody else. Sure, he was bruised and at least one of his eyes was going to be black and swollen, but it was obvious that he would be crowned 'victor' in this fight.

It took her a couple minutes to react, but finally, she shouted, " _Tommy_ ," as loudly as she could.

With the music cut and a crowd silently staring on in shock, her voice was the only thing that could be heard. And thankfully, it was.

He stopped, his arm still raised in the air, his knuckles torn, his chest heaving with labored breathing. She moved hesitantly toward him and put a hand on his shoulder. When he flinched, she circled around so he could see her, and she bent so they were eye to eye.

"It's me. It's Felicity," she murmured soothingly. "Come on." She covered his fist with her hand and lowered it. "Come on, we're going home."

He stared at her, his eyes a little glazed. "Felicity…?"

"It's okay… It's okay, Tommy. I've got you." She helped him stand, his knees wobbling under him, and she looped an arm around his waist.

The man on the ground groaned, rolling over onto his stomach. She could vaguely hear him yelling about suing them, but she didn't care. She stopped by the bar and left her information with the bartender in case the cops were called. Tommy was a public enough face, and had enough history with the SCPD, that they would recognize him. She wanted them to know that, if charges were pressed, they would cooperate. Finally, she led Tommy out of the bar and away from the prying eyes of the other patrons.

Tommy was silent as he leaned against her and Felicity didn't push him. She flagged down a cab and put him in the back, taking the front seat and giving the address to her apartment building. The ten minute drive was spent listening to the radio and staring out the window.

' _Well, so much for a night off_ ,' she thought. He'd just wanted to forget and she'd ruined it. She rubbed at her forehead, feeling a headache coming on. Now he was probably going to be charged with assault, maybe even sued for medical costs or something. Considering the guy he'd fought with, she wouldn't be surprised if he tried to say there was lifelong damage to milk Tommy for as much as he could.

When they returned to her apartment, Tommy waved her off from helping him out of the car. He followed her up the stairs to the door and waited for her to unlock it. He didn't seem all that disturbed with what had happened; he just wiped at the blood dribbling from his split lip from time to time. They took the elevator up to her floor and walked down the hall to her apartment. When they got inside, he simply made his way to the bathroom to get cleaned up while she dug out an ice pack for his eye and another for his knuckles.

He washed his face and returned, crossing to the kitchen table, taking his usual seat. They always wound up here, she thought. All they needed was a mug of coffee each. Given how beat up he looked, she thought he'd prefer the bottle of whiskey she kept for his bad nights.

She folded one ice pack and pressed it to his swollen eye; he raised his hand to take it from her, holding it in place. The other she laid over his knuckles, and then sat down on her seat across from him, watching as he stared down at the tabletop a long moment.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "I know you wanted a normal night… I wasn't expecting any of this. I tried to put him off, but he was persistent. I mean, I told him I had six kids at home, Tommy. Who keeps hitting on someone when they warn you they have six children?"

His lips twitched.

"Anyway, I'm sorry… If you want, we can go out tomorrow, try again…? Just, maybe not the same club…"

He finally raised his eyes to meet hers and shook his head, a smile pulling at his mouth. "Are you kidding? Tonight was great."

Her brow furrowed. "Tommy, you have a black eye, you  _might_ be getting sued, and you physically attacked somebody… I'm not sure  _great_ is the word I'd use."

He shook his head. "Don't worry about a lawsuit. My dad's lawyers will get rid of it," he dismissed. "I had fun. I got a little drunk, danced with some beautiful women, and I totally won that fight. I mean… I don't see a future in boxing for me, but I held my own."

She blinked at him, her mouth open but no words coming to her. This was not the reaction she was expecting.

He tossed the ice pack off his hand so he could reach for her, covering her hand with his. "I'm not saying all my unresolved anger is gone, but it felt  _amazing_ to hit that guy," he admitted, his eyes sparkling in a way they hadn't in what felt like forever. He grinned at her. "And honestly, this isn't the first time I've gone clubbing and it ended in a fight… It's just the first time I had a good reason to get into a fight."

Her head tipped as she tried to smother a smile. "You're one of a kind, you know that?"

"Thank you," he replied, but the weight of it, the sincerity in his face, said it was for a lot more than just her compliment.

Maybe it wasn't the best way to spend their Friday night. She wouldn't exactly be looking to do it again in future. But if it was what he needed, if it made the old Tommy shine through even just a little, then it was worth it.  _For now_. She would probably change her mind if he really was sued or arrested. But for the moment, with him smiling at her, she convinced herself that it would be okay. That  _he_ would be okay. She hoped that was true.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Lovely fic poster made by** : [dhfreak](http://dhfreak.tumblr.com/post/71718330698/ill-be-your-friend-by-sarcasticfina-a), so leave some love on her Tumblr.

 

**[ ** ** ](http://dhfreak.tumblr.com/post/71718330698/ill-be-your-friend-by-sarcasticfina-a) **

**II**.

"Don't make dinner plans."

Sitting at her kitchen table, her legs folded under her, Felicity looked up from her cereal bowl to find Tommy strolling in through her front door. "I'm barely through breakfast, I don't think dinner's really on my mind yet…"

He crossed the room quickly, almost sat down, but then decided to grab himself a bowl and a spoon before he joined her at the table. As he poured himself a bowl of Captain Crunch (which she maintained, as a fully grown adult, was a perfectly good meal choice), he told her, "I need you to come with me tonight."

"Okay," she agreed as she chewed. "As long as it's after six so I have time to stop at home and shower." She raised a brow. "Why? What's up? You need to make an appearance at some new restaurant?"

In the last three months, Felicity had become all too familiar with Tommy making last minute plans that he demanded she be a part of. Usually these plans involved her having to dress up and join him at some event or another. She wasn't  _exactly_ complaining, because she got free food and he bought her new shoes every time she went along. But she wasn't a huge fan of the paparazzi or, okay, she really didn't  _like_ dressing up. She much preferred a weekend at home in her pajamas. But Tommy was on a mission to act like he was totally fine and coping and that meant preserving his usual image. So Felicity went along, because she was a good friend, who happened to really like designer shoes. It wasn't something she really knew about herself before (because since when could she even afford to  _look_ at designer shoes?), but in a weird way, it worked for them. He needed to focus on something to stay sane. And seriously, she was just happy he was showering regularly.

He'd been getting gradually better since his fight with the nameless creep at the club. Whether it was because he was finally able to express some of that pent up emotion, albeit violently, or something else, she wasn't sure. But he wasn't currently being charged with assault and he was trying to get out more instead of moping in her apartment, playing her video games all day long, or passing out on her floor after a long night of drinking his sorrows away. So if he needed her to put on a good show for the elite of Starling City, she would. She just hoped the champagne was extra bubbly.

"Not exactly," he dug a spoonful of cereal out and held it up to his mouth. "Thea called, begged me to come over, so I told her I'd try and make dinner."

Watching him as she chewed, Felicity was slack-jawed. "Thea? As in Thea  _Queen_? Oliver's  _sister?_ "

He nodded. "Last I checked."

"You want me to go out to Queen Manor with you…?" She stared at him searchingly. "Have dinner with his mother, who is basically my  _boss_ , and her daughter, who I've never met but I'm sure, like any 12-year-old who's currently grieving for their brother doesn't want to make small talk with some random girl he almost dated once."

Panic swelled up inside her, making her stomach tie in knots so tight that her digesting cereal felt like making an encore appearance.

"Okay, it's a little weird if you look at it that way…" he admitted, his eyes turned up thoughtfully. With a shrug, he dismissively told her, "But I'm sure Thea has no idea about your history with Oliver. And she's a good kid. You'll like her."

Felicity shook her head, pushing her hair back behind her ears. "Look, Tommy, you know I'm usually up for just about anything… Like last week, when you thought it'd be fun to visit the zoo after hours… And I, for reasons I will never understand, actually helped you do it."

He grinned rather proudly. "And avoid the security cameras…"

"Yeah, well, at this point, I'm not sure if you're a terrible influence or if I need to be a better one…" she muttered.

"See, compared to that, this should be a cakewalk! It's  _one_ dinner… She's just been feeling lonely. Her mother barely leaves the room, she only gets out to go to school; she just needs some company…"

Felicity frowned down at her cereal, rapidly getting soggy, and considered his words. She could understand how hard it would be, being cooped up as Thea was, and stepping outside meant being swamped by the media. Oliver had loved his sister. He always spoke of her fondly, how she'd chase after him everywhere he went, idolizing him.

"Okay," she gave in, her shoulders slumping. "I'll go."

He grinned happily. "Thank you."

She pushed her glasses up the slope of her nose and raised an eyebrow. "We don't mention anything about me and Oliver, though?  _Okay?_  I'm serious, Tommy. It's got nothing to do with me and Oliver. This is about Thea, making her feel better. She doesn't need to know anything except that I was Oliver's friend."

"I don't want to rain on your 'keep it quiet' parade, but Oliver didn't really  _have_ female friends… He had friends and then he had women he slept with."

"Well, then I'm an exception." She waved her spoon around in a mocking display of 'hooray.'

He grinned. "You  _are_ that."

Rolling her eyes, she stood from her chair, taking her soggy cereal with her. "I need to get to work. And  _you_  need to find something to occupy your time with…"

"I've got some things to do today."

She frowned at him skeptically.

"Totally legal, completely necessary things to do," he promised, holding his hands up.

"Mm-hmm…" She walked off to her bedroom, her fuzzy panda-head slippers shuffling over the floor. "What time's dinner?"

"Six-thirty. I'll pick you up," he called, his mouth once-more filled with cereal.

"You, or your driver will?"

"My driver will drive me to pick you up," he corrected.

She smiled to herself before closing her bedroom door behind her. She grabbed up her robe before making her way into her bathroom, all the while wondering what was customary to wear for dinner at a billionaire's house. And no, Tommy didn't count. He spent enough time around her apartment in sweatpants that she didn't think what she wore with him counted as acceptable for the Queens.

Sighing, she hopped into the shower, and willed herself not to worry about it for the rest of the day.

She wasn't so fortunate.

* * *

Felicity had gone through three different outfits already and Tommy was going to be there any minute. She didn't know why she was trying so hard. It wasn't as if her looking presentable was going to do anything to help them in their grief. But here she was, trying on another dress, this one a robin egg blue. It wasn't flashy or too dressed up; it was simple and comfortable. She took one look at herself in the mirror and immediately started to second guess herself. But then her front door was opening and she found herself regretting the fact that, now having a key, Tommy seemed to think knocking wasn't necessary and he was invited inside anytime he pleased.

Accepting that this would just have to be what she wore and there was no changing it now, she slipped on a pair of white flats, grabbed up her purse, and left her bedroom. Her hair was down, which always felt a little weird after having it tied back in a ponytail all day. It was cooperating though, and that was a blessing all on its own. She half-smiled at Tommy as he stood waiting for her.

"Ready?" He clapped his hands before turning on his heel and starting toward the door. He swung it open and waited for her to walk out first before joining her, locking the door behind him.

As they made their way to the elevator, she wondered, "So what's Thea like? What does she do for fun? I feel like there's going to be a lot of really awkward small talk and I don't want to be the one asking dumb questions."

He shrugged. "I don't know. You probably know better than me what a twelve year old girl likes…"

Felicity rolled her eyes. "Great. This won't be weird at all."

"Will you please stop freaking out?"

She glared up at him as they stepped onto the elevator. "What do you think?"

"That it's going to be a long drive to the manor…" he muttered, jabbing the button for the main floor.

* * *

Felicity would never forget the first time she set eyes on Queen Manor. The pale stone walls that surrounded it and the iron gates that opened to allow them in were oddly not the least bit daunting. The sprawling landscape, a lush green that was well kept, was inviting and attractive, with bright flowers and richly thriving trees. A circular driveway brought them to the manor, which might as well have been called a castle, made completely of grey stones, standing tall and elegant.

Tommy's car came to a stop and Felicity felt her heart race as Carter, the driver, came around to open her door for her. Her hand always twitched, wanting to reach for the handle, but he'd repeatedly told her that it was his job and he would be "offended" if she didn't let him do it. As it opened for her, she smiled at him and stepped out of the car, smoothing out the sides of her dress.

"You look lovely, Miss Smoak," he assured.

She breathed a short sigh of relief. "Thank you. I can't tell if I feel overdressed or underdressed."

Tommy slid out behind her and stepped from the car, his hand on her back to maneuver her to the side. "I think the tornado that blew through your bedroom and left every outfit you own behind as wreckage is proof of that."

She rolled her eyes up at him. "This is your fault, so zip it."

"Hey, you're always saying we should eat home-cooked meals more," he reminded.

"Yeah, well, that's a mixture of fear for our mutual health since we eat out so much and irritation that you won't let me pay for anything."

Tommy directed her away from the car and toward the front doors of the manor. "In my defense, I have a lot of money."

"That's not a defense, that's a  _fact_."

"Fine, I have a lot of money and there are only so many things I can spend it on… If I want to make any kind of dent in it, I have to pay for what I can… Which is everything."

Felicity snorted. "That is the lamest excuse I've ever heard. You don't think there's more worthwhile things to spend money on than last night's take-out?"

"I'm sure there are, but that wouldn't have solved how hungry I was at the time."

"Tommy—"

The door swung open then, however, and Felicity let the argument go as she watched a short brunette, who was all arms, legs, and hair, rush through the door to attack Tommy in a hug. Helpless to it, Felicity smiled, watching as the girl, who was undoubtedly Thea, finally let go, only to drop back to her feet and sock Tommy hard in the arm, switching from excited to angry in a quick second.

"Ow!" he cried, obviously being more dramatic than necessary as he clutched his arm and bent as if to fall to his knees from the agony. "If this is how you treat all your dinner guests, I have to say, I'm not surprised you had to  _beg_ me to come…"

Rolling her eyes, Thea put a hand to her hip. "I did not  _beg_! I  _strongly suggested…_ "

Felicity grinned, biting her lip to hide her amusement.

"'Tommy  _please, please_ come to dinner… It's so boring in this big, old house and I haven't seen anybody in  _weeks_ …'" he mimicked her.

She scoffed, narrowing her eyes. "First, I don't sound like that. And second, maybe if you'd take my calls or visit more often, I wouldn't  _be_ so lonely."

Sobering from his teasing, he stood upright and stared down at her apologetically. "You're right… I've been incommunicado and you don't deserve that." He reached for her, his hand falling to her shoulder and squeezing gently. "But I won't be anymore, all right? It'll be 24/7 Tommy Merlyn until you're so sick of me you have to hire extra security to keep me out."

She pursed her lips to hide her amusement as she stared up at him, still trying desperately to look irritated. Finally, she nodded, deciding to take him at his word. Her eyes cut to the left then and an eyebrow raised. "Who's the chick? Raisa said somebody else was coming, but I didn't think you'd bring a  _date_."

Tommy shook his head. " _This_ is no ordinary chick." He held a hand out toward her and introduced, "This is my good friend, Felicity Smoak! She and Oliver were…" At Felicity's cutting look, he amended, "Close. They were close friends before…"

Thea's expression tightened, her eyes moving between him and Felicity. " _Close_? Really? What do you take me for?  _Ten?_ "

Felicity bit down hard on her lip and suddenly thought of how snarky and rebellious she was in her pre-teens, wanting so desperately to be taken seriously while still looking gawky and awkward. Thea was much prettier than Felicity had been at her age, but she was still skinny, her arms and legs a little too long for her slight frame yet. But she had a confident bearing about her that made her seem almost older than her years, if it wasn't for the attitude she gave anybody who looked at her.

"Wasn't there a promise of dinner?" Tommy wondered, quickly changing the subject.

"It was probably strongly suggested," Felicity quipped, reaching up to adjust her glasses as she half-smiled at Thea in what she hoped was a friendly, and not terribly awkward, way.

Thea's lips twitched before she turned on her heel and stepped inside the house. "Yeah, come on… Raisa made dinner tonight." She looked back at him over her shoulder and smirked. "Now  _her_ I begged… Mom might like that chef guy's food, but if I can't pronounce it, I don't wanna eat it."

Felicity followed them into the manor, her gaze wandering everywhere, taking in the elegant architecture and the open space that was dressed with simple but welcoming touches. She kept an ear open, but didn't comment as Tommy and Thea bantered back and forth and found herself thinking that they were quite alike in one way. It was obvious that Thea had been upset, she'd needed somebody there that could help support her through what was happening, but instead of expressing it openly, she tried to put on a brave front. It was hard to get Tommy to talk too. It usually took the aid of alcohol, otherwise he waited until it just sort of overflowed and he couldn't keep it in any longer. He'd been getting a little better, trying to talk to her before it started to weigh on him, but Felicity knew he was still trying to hide behind a smile that only became more and more forced.

Still, maybe it could be good for them. They were familiar, at least. So they had a lot more history they could use to help each other through. And that was all she wanted. Even if she spent most of the night just sort of smiling and nodding along to old stories. As long as Tommy felt better and stopped carrying so much guilt, she'd be happy.

"So I know mom usually has like, drinks in the parlour or whatever, but I'm starving," Thea announced. "If you two are ready to eat, I say we hit the dining room."

"Sounds good to me," Tommy agreed. "Besides, I'm pretty sure having drinks isn't nearly as cool when one of the hosts can only have ginger ale."

"Shut up," Thea muttered, elbowing him.

Chuckling, Tommy wrapped an arm around her head and pulled her in.

"You better not mess up my hair, Merlyn!"

Felicity watched fondly, a smile playing at her lips.

As they stepped into the dining room, her eyes widened slightly. Like the rest of the house, the dining room was elegant and stately. Dark wood paneling made up the walls and antique furnishings were all around, from paintings to vases to cherry wood bureaus polished to shine. The table was long, dressed with flower arrangements in the center. Three chairs circled one end, with Thea sitting at the head of the table and Felicity and Tommy set up for either side of her. It became quite clear then that Mrs. Queen wouldn't be joining them, and Felicity found herself both relieved and disappointed. It wasn't that she was eager to meet her boss, especially one whose son was missing, presumed dead, a son whom she'd had a… briefly romantic connection to. But now that she was aware of how isolated Thea and Mrs. Queen were, she couldn't help but worry. This was Oliver's family and he'd be devastated to know how broken up they were.

Turning her attention to the table as she sat down, Felicity looked over the cutlery and breathed a sigh of relief that she'd spent so much time out with Tommy at high class restaurants. She'd learned the different uses of each piece of cutlery early on and so it wasn't a daunting picture that met her as she stared down at the various sizes before her.

A salad was served first and she was happy for something to focus on instead of having to make small talk. But apparently Thea wasn't quite as enthusiastic to leave her out of the conversation…

"You look kind of familiar."

Felicity glanced at her and then down at her place, lettuce and dressing skewered on her fork. "Uh, well, I work at Queen Consolidated, so you might've seen me there before."

She raised a curious brow. "You worked for my dad?"

"In the IT Department."

"She's got a fancy office and a nameplate and everything," Tommy praised.

Felicity rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't call my office fancy. It's just barely a step up from cubicle. Honestly, I'm just happy I have a window… So there's something to jump out of when the monotony finally does me in."

He choked on a laugh. "What happened to enjoying your job?"

"If you had to show as many people as I do how to work their email, trust me, you'd consider a nosedive in your future too."

"Well, we all have to have goals, I guess," he mused with a grin, not the least bit concerned.

And fine, he was right, she would never throw herself out of the window of her office. Although sometimes, she had to admit, her job could be boring. There were only so many times she could tell one of the execs not to delete their important emails. But there was a light at the end of the tunnel, she was sure. One of the reasons she'd taken a job with QC was because it had promised that, if she scaled the ladder, eventually she would make it into their experimental computer program section, and that was all she really wanted. It was why she tried so hard at her job. Because eventually she wanted to be the one  _making_ the programs, not fixing them for someone else.

"So you and my brother then," Thea piped up, drawing attention back to her. "You two were…  _close_?" Her eyes flashed as she tipped her head. "What's that mean anyway?" Before Felicity could even open her mouth to respond, Thea rolled her eyes and added, "And don't give me the canned, after-school special response, either, all right?"

Felicity glanced briefly at Tommy, who was giving her an 'I told you so' face that he was  _so_ going to regret later.

"I don't… really know how to, uh… explain that…" she admitted, sitting back in her chair. "We were friends."

Tommy made a negative humming noise as he picked up his glass of wine and raised his eyebrows at her.

"We were  _friends_ ," she repeated, tempted to glare at him. "But…" She sighed, shrugging slightly. "There were also slightly non-platonic feelings… occasionally…" She winced. "Not that anything happened. Because, like I said, we were friends."

Thea stared at her a long moment before turning her head to Tommy. "Okay, spill, what were they?"

Eagerly, Tommy placed his wine on the table and grinned. Clapping his hands together like it was some big production, he said, "Okay, so it starts out with your usual cat and mouse game, right? Oliver asks her out, puts on the charm, but Felicity wasn't having  _any_ of it, turns him down flat…" He wiggled his eyebrows, saying quite a bit in just that one expression. "So obviously he wasn't deterred in the least."

Thea snorted. " _Obviously_."

"Just picture it, five days a week he was in her office for lunch breaks, practically on his hands and knees for her to give him the time of day."

"It was  _not_ that dramatic," Felicity argued.

"And every day she'd tell him it wasn't happening." He shook his head, looking highly amused. "Before you know it, you've got a lovesick Oliver on your hands.  _All_ he talks about is Felicity. That he made laugh that day, that she smiled at him, that she called him Oliver instead of Mr. Queen." He grinned. "It was a thing of beauty… if not completely, embarrassingly  _pathetic_."

Thea laughed, resting her chin on her upturned fist as she listened to him tell the story.

"Took him nine _months_ to even get her to agree to a date," he crowed. "And even that was only after…" He paused, trailing off, his eyes turned away. Clearing his throat, his glee gone, he sat back in his chair and smoothed a hand down his chest. "It was only after he promised her he'd be on his best behavior on his trip to China… Their first date was going to be when he got back." With that, he downed the rest of his wine in one long gulp before reaching for the bottle left behind.

Felicity leaned forward, her hand stretching out to land atop his glass, keeping him from filling it while she searched and met Tommy's gaze.

He stared at her a long moment, his expression drawn, but he eventually put the wine bottle down and instead reached for his glass of ice water.

Feeling the weight of eyes on her, Felicity turned her head to see Thea staring at her speculatively.

"So how'd you meet?" she wondered.

"It's not…" She shook her head, her brow furrowed. Part of her wanted to deter the conversation. This wasn't about her. Her previous…  _whatever_ with Oliver had no bearing on the situation. She was more an outsider at this table than anything. These people knew Oliver, all of him. She was just a passing fancy. A mouse that got away from the cat that was used to always coming out the victor.

But Thea was looking at her and Tommy was subdued, so she lifted her chin and tried to be casual. "We met in the coffee room. He, uh… I don't know why he was there, he never told me." She shrugged, shaking her head faintly. "But he found me, arguing with a defective coffee machine, and... He said he had a jet and that he'd take me to Columbia… Brazil…  _anywhere_ … And I—I thought he was flirting and that it was a  _terrible_ line. I didn't even know who he was; I had no idea he actually  _had_ a jet… So I told him no and I went across the street for Starbucks…" She licked her lips as she thought back to it, to the way he smiled at her, at how he so casually offered to take her out of country over something as simple as coffee.

But that was Oliver; everything came so easily to him that he never gave it a second thought. What was a weekend away with a woman he barely knew? He'd spend it in bed, he figured, and the coffee would only be enjoyed in the morning, after a long night of no strings attached sex. As much as that arrogance should have been a complete turn off, and it certainly had its moments when it was, she still liked the man underneath it. The peek she got at somebody who could be real, who laid underneath the expensive clothes and cologne and billion dollar mugshot.

"What about after?"

Drawn out of her memories, Felicity blinked her eyes a few times and turned back to Thea, who was watching her carefully. "I'm sorry?"

"After you knew who he was, that he had money and a jet... What happened then?"

"I… I didn't know what to do at first. I didn't want to offend him because I was worried about my job, but I didn't want to encourage him either…"

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why not encourage him?"

"Because…" Her brow furrowed. He'd been charming and funny and so,  _so_ persistent. That sometimes she forgot those early days and how reticent she'd been to give him even the time of day. "Because it wasn't real then."

Nobody said anything for a moment, as if waiting for her to explain, to gather her thoughts.

She rested her elbows on the table, despite a voice that sounded entirely too much like her mother telling her that it was impolite. "Do you ever remember being a kid and you've got some shiny new toy…? It's special because you've never played with it, it's practically right off the shelves, brand spanking new…" She smiled faintly. "And you're having so much fun that somebody else notices, so this kid comes over and they want to play too. But it's your toy and it's still so shiny, so you don't let them. You don't even know this kid, you don't know how he treats toys or if his hands are sticky or if he'll try to steal it and never give it back… Or  _worse_ , if he'll break it, and he won't even apologize…

"So you hold the toy close and you turn your back on the kid, hoping he'll go away, he'll get distracted with something else, something shinier… But he doesn't. And halfway through playtime you realize that the only reason he even wants it now is because you have it. He doesn't care what it is or what it does, he just wants the toy because you said no, because you wouldn't share…"

She shook her head, amending, "Or that's what you  _think_  anyway… Maybe he really likes the toy. Maybe after a while, the toy has grown on him too. But you're still pretty worried that something will happen to the toy, so you wait until the bell rings and you take it inside, you hide it in your backpack, and you never bring it to school again. He asks every day where it is and you tell him it's at home, for safekeeping. But he keeps asking. He sits with you at lunch and he asks you what kind of cool things it can do. It's his favorite subject, it's all he ever talks about. But you're still worried. Sometimes he's not very careful with other toys. You've seen it. He doesn't break them, he just doesn't put them away nicely. Sometimes he forgets them on the playground… And sometimes those toys don't care, but you know yours will…

"So you start thinking of ways to stop his fascination. Maybe you'll tell him it's broken, that it can't be fixed, and he'll just have to find a new toy to focus on. But you don't think that'll work and it doesn't matter, because you kind of like how he sits with you at lunch and passes you notes in class and walks you to the bus after school. You don't want to admit it, but you're afraid that if you bring your toy to school now, he'll realize it's not as cool as he thought, and he'll stop spending time with you… He'll get bored. And that scares you, because now you're attached. It doesn't matter that you're two very different people or that he still plays with other toys, because he's there, every day, and he makes you feel special…

"So you tell him on Friday that you'll bring the toy on Monday and he gets excited. So excited that you know all those fears were for nothing… Except then Monday is there and you've got your toy in your backpack. You're fidgeting all through class, because you can't wait to show him, you can't wait to finally share it with him. Only at recess, you see him playing with somebody else's toy, like he doesn't care or remember that you promised you'd bring yours. So you decide to wait until lunch, you give him the benefit of the doubt, you  _trust_ him…

"Only lunch never comes and he doesn't come back to class... And now you've got a toy sitting in your backpack and you're staring at his desk, waiting for him to be there, to turn around and see you and smile like he always does, in that way that makes your heart flip in your chest so hard you think it's going to jump right out. But the bell rings and the class keeps going and he's not there… He's never there. And you don't see him the next day or the next day and for the whole week… But the toy stays, it never leaves your bag, because you still think he'll show up one day and he'll want to play with it and you don't want to make him wait anymore… But he doesn't and all you can do is blame yourself for not bringing it out earlier, for making him wait for so long…"

Her chest constricted tightly and her throat burned. "For being the reason he went on that stupid trip because you told him your lives didn't fit and he thought he needed to be more responsible, to be  _worthy_ of you. So he asked his dad if he could go to stupid China when he should've been club hopping with Tommy and you wonder if he blamed you. You wonder if he even thought it was worth it and you hate it. You hate that it was you and your stupid toy's fault. You should've left it at home. You should've—" Her breath shuddered out from her and her voice cracked as she stopped. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I just— I… need fresh air."

She pushed away from the table and rushed out of the room without looking at either of them. It wasn't until she was outside and the breeze was blowing past that she realized she was crying, the cool air on the tear streaks of her cheeks is both refreshing and chilly. Her knees were shaking and her stomach had curled up tight, a ball of lead emotion sinking inside it. She took a deep breath as she walked out into the circular driveway, bypassing where the car had been parked but was no longer, and instead moving out to where the sun beamed bright over the grass and the meticulously kept rose bushes.

She walked closer, the crunch of gravel seeming loud under her shoes. She admired the bright red petals of each blooming flower, bending to take in a deep breath, their fragrance calming something inside her, something cracked and painful. She could already feel an embarrassed flush filling her cheeks, but tried to ignore it, tried to forget everything she'd said, how it had spilled out of her like a faucet she'd been too late to turn off. She hadn't meant to say that. Hadn't she told Tommy not to say anything? She wanted to help them, not lay her baggage out in front of them, adding to their already heavy burden.

Reaching out, she took a rose petal between her thumb and forefinger, momentarily distracted by how impossibly soft it was.

Oliver sent her flowers a number of times. Every kind she could imagine, always trying to figure out what her favorite was. He would show up at lunch, smirk at the bundle sitting prettily on her desk, and wait for her answer of, "They're nice, but they're not my favorite." He shrugged each time, seeming unaffected, but she knew it only made his resolve stronger. He would find out. If Oliver was anything, stubborn was a high-ranking attribute.

"So do you always ramble like that or was that just dinner talk?"

Felicity whirled around abruptly, surprised to find Thea Queen standing a few feet away, her arms crossed loosely over her chest.

"Oh, my rambling is definitely not contained just to dinner, or any meal time really… It's more of a 'whenever discomfort strikes' kind of disorder." She shrugged, pressing her hands together so she wouldn't play with her fingers nervously. "Listen, I… I didn't mean to ruin your dinner. I know you invited Tommy over to get away from all this depressing stuff."

"Well, it looks like this 'depressing stuff' is following him around too… Or at least that's what it looked like when you kept him from boozing it up in there…" She pointed a thumb behind her meaningfully.

Felicity winced. "He's not… He isn't an alcoholic or anything… At least, I don't think he is… He's just… He's not coping well and, you know Tommy, his way of dealing is to be funny… Sometimes that doesn't help."

Thea stared at her a long moment, her head tipped, the wisdom of someone much older than twelve dwelling deep in her gaze. Felicity wondered if it was there before her father and brother were lost at sea, or if it was what caused her to grow up so quickly.

"You really care about him…" she murmured.

"Who? Tommy?" Felicity smiled. "He's… It's weird, but I think he might actually be one of my best friends."

Thea half-smiled, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, he has that effect." She twisted her upper body side to side as she walked a few steps closer. "But I meant Oliver too… You really care about my brother."

Felicity met her probing gaze. "I meant what I said before… Oliver was my friend. Before anything else. Yes, there was a hint of something else, but his friendship is what I miss most… Just seeing him, hearing about his day, the sound of his laughter…" She shook her head as her eyes began to sting, the prickle of tears returning. "It must be so hard on you, and I'm out here crying, making it worse."

Thea's gaze dropped. "My mom doesn't cry… I think she ran out of tears. She just stays in her bed, she doesn't move, doesn't talk… Sometimes she can't even look at me…" Her lips twisted. "And I tell myself it's just because, you know, maybe I look too much like my dad, right? But…" Her breath left her on a cracked whoosh. "But I wonder sometimes… If maybe she wishes it was me instead of Oliver… If maybe she'd be better if she still had him, at least."

"Thea, no…" Felicity moved toward her. "I'm sure your mother loves both of you, she's just… She's grieving. And it can be hard to see what's right in front of you when your thoughts are miles away…" Reaching out, she put a hand on the young girl's shoulder. "You remember about what I said about Tommy? About how he tries to make things better by being funny?"

She nodded, reaching a hand up to wipe at her cheeks as she sniffled.

"Some people don't have coping skills like that. Tommy pretends he's not hurt, he tries to distract himself, but your mom, she just… She buries herself in her grief. I'm not saying either is better or worse, just that we all grieve differently."

Thea nodded, but frowned worriedly as she wondered, "What if she never stops though? What if she just… never leaves her room?"

"She will," Felicity promised. "It'll just take time."

She took a few minutes to mull that over. "What did you do when you found out?"

"I took the day off from work, curled up on my couch and cried myself to sleep repeatedly," she admitted.

Thea half-smiled. "Me too…" She shrugged. "Well, it was more like a month and I took off school."

"I didn't even get the whole day. Tommy showed up on my door step… And he hasn't really left since."

Thea was still wiping at her damp cheeks, tucking her long, curly, brown hair behind her ears. "Is that how you coped?" At Felicity's raised eyebrow, she explained, "Taking care of Tommy."

"Oh…" She never thought about it like that, but… "Yeah, I suppose it is."

She nodded, ducking her head. "Do you think…" She stopped herself, biting her lip.

"What?" Felicity encouraged.

"I just thought… The summer's coming up and I'll be stuck in the house all the time then, and all my friends are acting really weird, and it was so hard to get Tommy to even pick up the phone… I mean, I know he's upset, and I think visiting us makes him feel more guilty, but…"

"But you're lonely too… You miss Oliver too."

Her eyes were bright with new tears as she raised her head to look at Felicity, sad but hopeful. "I was just thinking, if you wanted to visit sometimes, and you can bring Tommy… Maybe— Maybe we can grieve together, you know?" She shrugged. "Maybe you can help me get my mom out of her room, like you helped Tommy…?"

She half-smiled. "What makes you think I'm actually good at it?"

"Tommy has good taste in friends…" She chewed her lip and shrugged. "And my brother… The way you talked about him… Look, I- I don't know if Oliver will come back. I hope he does. I- I hope he's okay. But it's hard. It's really hard to be here and miss him and not know who to talk to or what to do. I feel guilty when I laugh and I feel ang—" Her breath hitched. "—angry  _all_ the time. I know it's not his fault, but I feel like he left me! And I'm mad at my mom because she won't come out of her room and I don't— I don't know what to  _do!_ "

The more she talked, the more emotional she got, and finally she was crying again, taking in deep, shaky breaths, trying to stem the flow of tears and failing. And suddenly she wasn't wiser than her years, she was just a 12-year-old girl who was lost and lonely and desperately missed her family.

Felicity reached for her, wrapping her arms around Thea in a hug, her hand soothingly rubbing circles over her back. "It's okay, it's okay," she repeated, though her words felt hollow and useless.

"I just want my dad and my brother," she breathed against Felicity's shoulder, gripping the back of her dress, her face buried against her. "I want them back so much."

"I know…" She held her tight, rocking her lightly, letting her cry herself out.

Over her shoulder, she could see Tommy standing, his hands tucked into his pants pockets, a solemn look on his face. He didn't interrupt, he just nodded at her, and she realized suddenly that he knew exactly what he was doing when he brought her to Queen Manor. He introduced her to Thea for a reason. He wanted her to help Thea like she had him.

For a moment, Felicity was angry, because half the time she didn't even feel like she was really helping Tommy. She was leaning on him just as much as he was her, wasn't she? It didn't matter that he spent most of his nights on her couch, that they shared every meal together, and that she was his sounding board for every thought that ever crossed his mind. That she held him when he cried and stopped him when he blamed himself and took the bottle away when he'd had enough. She was the hand he reached for and she always squeezed back.

But that was mutual. She might not drink too much, but she did bury herself in work to avoid life and the misery that had recently begun to consume it. He took her out when she was feeling down, made her smile, made her laugh. He played video games with her and watched movies and all her favorite nerdy TV shows without complaint. He was the shoulder she put her head on when she was sad and the lunch partner that filled the seat that had been distractingly empty since Oliver's disappearance. He  _was_ her best friend, possibly the only friend that understood her right now. And maybe that was why she wasn't angry. Because she realized that he was trying to bring a little bit of Oliver back into her life. He was giving her Thea. Oliver's beloved sister, the girl he talked about with only love. Who he called fondly called Speedy and had related some of his favorite memories of over their many lunches.

So she wasn't angry, she was maybe even a little bit grateful.

She and Thea still had to get to know each other better, but maybe it would be made easier by that shared connection of Oliver and Tommy.

Felicity didn't know how well she'd be able to help her, or if she'd be any great help in getting Mrs. Queen to leave her bedroom, but she knew as she stood there, holding Thea, that she had just signed on to do whatever she could to help, however tall the order. And as much as her life was already on the stressful side at the moment, she knew that it would be worth it. Oliver loved Thea, and Felicity only hoped that, wherever he was, he knew that she would be taken care of.

**Author's Note:**

> So this will progressively get happier. It starts off pretty sad because they're in the thick of their grief, but it will get better as they go and begin to accept and move on. Obviously, as we all know, Oliver's alive, but this has to be treated as if they have no idea he's coming back. For those of you who are excited, Felicity meets Thea in the next part and thus begins Felicity's role in the Queen family!
> 
> I'm really, really enthusiastic about this series, so I hope you are too. Please leave a review. I'd love to know if there's anything you're hoping to see or have focused on and what really stands out for you!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
>  
> 
> **\- Lee | Fina**


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